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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620870">Abduction, Seduction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf/pseuds/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf'>0hHeyThereBigBadWolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Traits, Because He's An Actual Well-Adjusted Human Being, Biting, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Do Not Re-Post To Another Site, Dragon Merlin (Merlin), Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Porn with Feelings, Some Humor, Ygraine Lives (Merlin), slightly ooc arthur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:01:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,254</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf/pseuds/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons are supposed to capture princesses, so why can't they capture princes, too? Especially since this particular prince isn't putting up much of a fight against this particular dragon.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>451</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Abduction, Seduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Arthur is a bottom who likes it kinky and semi-rough, send tweet.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A breeze rustles the papers on his desk.</p>
<p>Arthur stares at the stack of letters on his desk, watching them stir, seeing the candleflame dance, and knowing full well that he had closed the balcony doors before he sat down. Slowly, he sits up straight, drawing his legs in and making to stand. Before he can rise from his chair, however, claws press up underneath his chin, two hands curled alongside his throat. "Don't move," a voice growls in his ear, deep and rumbling, like stone grinding together in the depths of the earth.</p>
<p>Arthur goes still, aware of how sharp those claw-points are against his neck. His gaze flicks over to the small blade resting on the corner of his desk.</p>
<p>"Don't even think it," comes the growl, and the claws press a little harder to his skin, hard enough to sting. One hand moves away from his throat, reaching forward to take the quill from Arthur's fingers, laying on the desktop. Then those sharp black claws trace up the length of his arm, catching slightly on his sleeve, up to his shoulder, then down his flank, a light, dangerous pressure.</p>
<p>Arthur squirms in the chair. "Merlin, <em>don't!"</em> he gasps out.</p>
<p>The claws come away from his throat with a sigh. "You are <em>useless</em> as a mummer, Arthur, you know that?"</p>
<p>"I'm <em>ticklish,</em> you <em>know</em> that!" he protests, turning in his chair to look up at his dragon, standing behind him with hands braced on the chairback and grinning down at him. "You're late. Did someone see you?" Arthur stands up and turns 'round, leaning back on the edge of his desk.</p>
<p>"No, but there's a storm on the way, off Meredoc," Merlin answers, rolling his shoulders. "There's a crosswind that could pull a flag off its post. We'll need to go the longer way this time, let the mountains be our windbreak."</p>
<p>Arthur smiles, pushing aside the chair with one foot so he can pull Merlin to him. "I don't mind. I like flying with you. But if we're going to around the mountains, we should go now, make up the time."</p>
<p>"You know, you <em>are</em> technically being abducted by a dragon," Merlin points out, wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist and pulling him closer. One leg insinuates itself between Arthur's, nudging them apart slightly so they can fit together more snugly.</p>
<p>"Mm, good point." Arthur turns slightly at the shoulders, looking towards the door of his chambers. "Stop. Help. Please," he says, entirely deadpan, then looks back at Merlin. "Well, they didn't hear me. Shame, that. Suppose you're free to take me, then."</p>
<p>The amber in Merlin's eyes darkens. "Oh, I'll <em>take</em> you. Come on." Hooking fingers in Arthur's belt, Merlin backs up out onto the balcony. Slinging a leg over the balustrade, he slips his skin, growing and reforming into the shape of a lithe black dragon. He's unusually small for dragonkin—Arthur has seen some of Merlin's relatives, large enough to fill the entire courtyard—but it's a good thing, because there is no way for a twelve-tonne dragon to do anything <em>subtly.</em> Adjusting his grip on the stone balustrade with dexterous foreclaws, Merlin leans forward over the balcony, offering his shoulder.</p>
<p>Mindful of the rather dizzying drop down to the courtyard below, Arthur climbs up onto the balustrade and grasps Merlin's back-ridge, bracing one foot on the dragon's bent foreleg to brace himself, pulling himself up and over.</p>
<p>"Tightly, love," Merlin rumbles in as low a voice as he can manage; Arthur wraps his arms around the dragon's neck and holds on tight, squeezing with his legs as well.</p>
<p>Keeping his wings in close and pressing close to the wall as he can without scraping his belly against the stone, Merlin ascends the wall to the rooftops, carefully winding between the roof peaks and spires. Once he's gained the west tower, a blind point to the ground watch, his wings unfurl with a soft rustle. One-two stroke and they're <em>up. </em>Arthur tightens his grip on reflex, closing his eyes tightly against the rushing wind, head bowed against the warm scales. It isn't until Merlin slows and steadies out that Arthur sits up, blinking away the wind-stung tears.</p>
<p>"Oh. I'll never get tired of this, Merlin," he murmurs, tilting his head back to look up at the night sky. There's no moon, needing the darkness for cover, but it hardly matters. There are so many <em>stars</em>. This high, up past the cloudline, he feels like he can reach out and run his fingers through them, stir up the constellations, rearrange them to his liking. "It's so very beautiful."</p>
<p>"Not as beautiful as you."</p>
<p>Arthur blames the flush in his face on the wind, reaching down to swat at Merlin's neck. "Shut up," he mutters and feels the dragon rumble with laughter under him. He watches the sky move above them as Merlin flies them away from the castle, more gliding than anything else. From wingtip to wingtip, his wingspan is wider than his entire body is long, which lets him coast along without hardly needing to beat his wings at all.</p>
<p>With the cloud cover below them, it's hard to tell exactly where they are, how much ground they've covered, but it hardly feels like any time at all before Merlin is tilting his wings to take them down. Arthur leans forward and curls himself against the dragon's back, feeling the chilly dampness cling to his clothes and hair as they pass through the cloudline. When the last of the vapors clear away, he can see they're approaching Merlin's den. He'd established himself between the forest and the marshlands, near to the borders of Elmet and Camelot. It isn't quite a mountain, but it is certainly more than a hill, a great sharp jut of stone that emerges from the earth like a spur, all on its lonesome. The entrance is under a sharp overhang, invisible from above and inaccessible from the ground below, also serving to keep out the rain and harsher wind. Arthur has to press himself close against Merlin's back to keep from being scraped against the walls of the narrow entrance.</p>
<p>The tunnel leads up, then curves back down sharply, like a hook, then opens into the main chamber, hollowed out over gods-know how many years into a space as large as the Hall of Ceremonies, vented with the odd opening to the outside burrowed through the walls and ceiling.</p>
<p>Once they're in the chamber, Merlin dips his shoulder to let Arthur slide off, turning to ignite the deep hearth pit in the middle of the chamber. Stretching the ache out of his legs, Arthur wanders idly about, admiring the…rather unique décor of Merlin's private den. Strings of coloured glass are draped along the openings where they will be illuminated by sunlight come day, filling the chamber with colour and light, and the walls are draped with lengths of brightly coloured fabrics, silks and satin and velvet, embroidered and dyed. He had always thought that dragons collected <em>treasure</em>, gold and silver and jewels; while he does have some such thing, Merlin collects all sorts of things, mostly books, some in entirely different languages. Artefacts, idle trinkets, peculiar odds and ends that seem to have no other purpose than being amusing to look at.</p>
<p>"Oh, this is new," Arthur remarks, seeing a crumpled pile of thick, heavy cloth which he supposes is a tapestry of sorts, as a rug wouldn't be feasible, what with Merlin's tail and claws. Walking over, he finds an edge of tapestry and hefts a corner of it up to see its design. And he immediately drops it again. "Good <em>God, </em>Merlin. That is… that's <em>indecent,"</em> he says, trying to ignore how his face has gone hot.</p>
<p>"I like it," Merlin retorts, his dragon form seeming to sort of draw inwards, reforming into the shape of a man. "I don't go into your precious castle and criticise the décor, do I?"</p>
<p>"Yes, you do."</p>
<p>Merlin purses his lips. "I like it," he repeats, walking over to kindle the lightstones arrayed by small mirrors placed around interior; the hearth fire is warm, but it doesn't illuminate the oddly-shaped chamber very well. Then he turns back towards Arthur, an amber gleam in his eyes. "Besides," he purrs, stalking closer with a predatory grace that raises Arthur's pulse, "it gives me ideas." With a motion too swift to <em>quite </em>follow, Merlin lunges forward, going low and grabbing Arthur behind the thighs. One sharp pull has Arthur's legs out from beneath him, sending him tumbling back onto the heaped tapestry. It brings a small sound from his throat, involuntary, and Arthur stares up into Merlin's face, pulse in the back of his mouth as Merlin braces his body over Arthur's, hands planted on either side of his head. "You've not seen the whole thing," he says, low and intent. He settles his lower body against Arthur's, pressing against his hip. "Would you like to see my favourite parts? Or shall I just show you?"</p>
<p>"Yes." Arthur wraps both arms around Merlin's neck and pulls him down into a kiss.</p>
<p>Merlin responds with full eagerness, all sharp-edged teeth and exploring tongue, but then he draws back up, breaking Arthur's grasp. "Be still," he orders. One hand slides over and down to rest on Arthur's chest just at the neckline of his tunic. His fingers flex lightly, and his nails turn dark, extending out into curved black claws, a shimmer of purple-blue scales appearing on the back of his hand.</p>
<p>Merlin hooks one claw under the first loop of Arthur's tunic lacings, pulling downward slowly. Tension…snap. Next tie. Tension. Snap. Again and again, until he's cut all the lacings, his claw hooked in the bottom of the tunic's neckline. Arthur is breathing in quick pants through his open mouth, chest brushing Merlin's claw with each inhale. Merlin begins to draw downwards. There's more tension before the sound of tearing cloth begins, going in short pulls until Merlin reaches the bottom hem, yanking his claws through the last of the fabric. Arthur groans and arches his back, pressing up into Merlin's hands.</p>
<p>A hand pressed to his chest pushes him back down, the sharp tips of Merlin's claws pricking his skin, five stinging points of warning pressure. "I said, be <em>still."</em></p>
<p>"Yes, well, you're taking too long," Arthur says through gritted teeth. He squirms, managing to get a leg free and pressing <em>up, </em>feeling Merlin hard and eager against his thigh, hot even through the fabric between them.</p>
<p>"You…impertinent…<em>prat,"</em> Merlin hisses out, hips twitching forward, rutting against Arthur's thigh. Leaning back, he reaches down and grabs Arthur's belt. The treated leather might as well be lace for all it holds up, going to easily-slung-aside pieces. He doesn't bother with the laces of Arthur's breeches at all, simply hooks those claws under the waist and <em>pulls</em> downward.</p>
<p>Despite the show of raw strength, those sharp claws don't break his skin, don't even prick him; knowing that they <em>could, </em>though, that Merlin <em>could</em> just scrape him to ribbons on a whim, makes his heart beat all the faster. "You're still wearing clothes, <em>Mer</em>lin," Arthur gasps out, gripping his dragon's shoulders, feeling the flex and bunch of muscle under his hands as Merlin shreds through his breeches and smalls, right down to his boots and socks with it.</p>
<p>"Not really," he rumbles, and then Arthur's hands are on bare skin.</p>
<p>"Oh, you bloody <em>cheat.</em> One of these days, I'm going to have you in proper clothes, and then I'm going to tear them right off you like this," Arthur pants out. It does give him a thrill of devious arousal to know that Merlin has been walking about in a glamour, wearing nothing but his skin beneath the magic. Still, there's a pleasure to be found in getting clothes off. Like unwrapping the most wondrous present.</p>
<p>"Will you? With these?" Merlin turns his head to nip at Arthur's hands, at his blunt, bitten-down nails.</p>
<p>"I'll use my dagger," he retorts impulsively.</p>
<p>Merlin growls, low in his chest, eyes going more amber than blue, and in an instant, he is lying flush on top of Arthur, hips spreading his thighs. He growls out something in hard, grinding Drakine; Arthur gasps, arching his back at the feel of Merlin's magic sinking into him. His magic feels <em>hot,</em> like leaping into a bath that's just been poured without waiting for the water to cool first.</p>
<p>Sliding a hand under his back, Merlin lifts him further and rolls his hips forward, sliding into Arthur all at once. Arthur cries out, digging his nails hard into Merlin's shoulders. It doesn't exactly <em>hurt,</em> but it rides that bright line between pleasure and pain, a slick slide of flesh that shouldn't be entirely possible. "I love that spell," he chokes out, wrapping his legs around his dragon's hips, squeezing him tight. He has to hold onto something or he'll break right apart, split in two and dissolve into nothing but a puddle of sensation.</p>
<p>Merlin buries his face into the crook of Arthur's neck and shoulder with a low growl and begins to move, hips snapping. He's strong enough to push Arthur into the tapestry at each thrust, rough cloth scraping his skin. A low growl thrums in the bottom of his chest, reverberating in Arthur's where they're pressed together. When he runs hands over Merlin's shoulders, down the sweat-slick muscle of his back, Arthur feels scale rippling across bare skin, the hard ridges lining his backbone, and whines low in his throat. Above him, Merlin rumbles and drags his hands down Arthur's sides; his claws are still out, leaving stinging, fiery lines in their wake.</p>
<p>Arthur groans louder, writhing against his dragon's grip and knowing full well he won't break it. It takes him a moment to make sense of the catch in Merlin's breathing, still panting hot and damp on his neck, but when he does, he can't help but laugh, a weak, breathless sound. "Are you scenting me, <em>Mer</em>lin?" he asks, turning his head to catch one of those ridiculous ears with his teeth.</p>
<p>"I like how you smell," his dragon rumbles back, nipping his throat. "I like how you smell when we're like this." He punctuates his words with a sharp snap of hips that makes Arthur yelp. "Like sweat and sex and me."</p>
<p>"Possessive git," Arthur laughs, breathless.</p>
<p>Lifting up slightly, Merlin looks down at him with eyes gone dragon-amber, no blue left, and grins with nothing but sharp teeth. "And don't you know it." And then he sinks his teeth into Arthur's shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and after that, everything dissolves into a red haze of pleasure, sweat-slick skin and hard scale, things to do with teeth and nails that wouldn't kill but would certainly leave a mark.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Arthur wakes up to coloured sunlight in his eyes, and he rolls over with a grunt, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. Feeling rough fabric against his skin, he realises that, for one, he is still naked, and for two, he's tangled up in that damn tapestry. Merlin hadn't moved them to the nest. Sitting up, he shoves at the thick material until he can see himself, then groans. He looks like he has bloody <em>leprosy, </em>as many love-bites he bears, with red scratches striping his hips and thighs and flanks. There's a general burning feeling across his entire back, right down to his arse, which tells him he's also been chafed raw on this damned tapestry.</p>
<p>"Good morning."</p>
<p>He looks up at the familiar voice to see Merlin sitting at what passed for a table in his den, a large trunk holding a collection his more delicate books, eating from a heaped-high platter. "Bastard!" Arthur exclaims.</p>
<p>The corner of Merlin's mouth lifts. "What?"</p>
<p>"Look at me!" He flings his arms out wide. "I look like a common whore after a busy night!"</p>
<p>Merlin snorts so hard he almost chokes on whatever he'd just bitten into, coughing and laughing in one.</p>
<p>"Tapestries are for hanging, not for shagging! I've probably lost half the skin off my backside thanks to you. You're going to heal that, by the way, or I'll not be able to wear clothes for a week, never mind sit a horse," Arthur says as he kicks the rest of the tapestry off his legs until he can stand up unfettered. "Don't even say it," he adds in warning, having seen the musing gleam in Merlin's gaze, considering the thought of him going about mother-naked for an entire sennight. Still, it does smell wonderful, so Arthur carefully picks his way across the clutter of the den, going first to the nest and, after some contemplation, pulling free a length of multihued silk covered in a pattern of flowers and birds. Finding a longer piece of his torn belt, he wraps the silk around him like the chiton of a Hellene deity and ties the belt-remnant around his waist to keep it in place. Decent as he's going to be, he makes his way over to their table.</p>
<p>Merlin doesn't believe in eating daintily, so aside from the bread, cheese, and grapes that have somehow been produced out of season, there's also boiled eggs, smoked sausage, bacon, tender capon, and some kind of hash made of potatoes and mushrooms and something else he can't identify. Arthur picks through the platter, eating a few choice bits and gazing across the way at Merlin. "So how long do you intend on keeping me this time, O great dragon?"</p>
<p>"Depends." Merlin stabs a grape with the tip of his claw. "How long do I have before your father has another of his legendary temper tantrums and sends a regiment out to look for you?"</p>
<p>Arthur flicks a piece of bacon at him. "He sent a single patrol of knights, not a <em>regiment,</em> and him being concerned about my apparent disappearance is not a temper tantrum," he admonishes, even though it does sound a bit flimsy to his own ears.</p>
<p>"If you say."</p>
<p>Still, it is a fair question. He thinks on it a moment, considering the most likely chain of events to follow once they find his chambers empty. "A sennight," he says at last.</p>
<p>Merlin raises his brows. "That long? He must be getting docile in his old age."</p>
<p>"Shut <em>up.</em> No, it's…" Arthur hesitates. "Mother knows."</p>
<p>"You told her?"</p>
<p>"No, no." He shakes his head quickly, holding out a hand; Merlin passes him a golden goblet adorned with enough gems to pay a minor noble's ransom. Wine, mixed with a fair amount of water. "She guessed. She asked to talk to me last month, told me she figured our…excursions weren't me going on the odd hunting trip."</p>
<p>Merlin's gaze is still level, unblinking. "And? What did you tell her? What does she think?"</p>
<p>"I told her that I was seeing someone, and she guessed it was you. She couldn't imagine how else I got out of the city without someone seeing me, said it only made sense if I went over the gates and not through them," Arthur explains, remembering how it'd felt like someone had punched the air out of him when Mother told him she knew, how he'd remembered to breathe again when she'd embraced him. "She promised she wouldn't tell Father. She knows that us being…paramours isn't exactly ideal for many people."</p>
<p>It isn't a matter of politics or rank—the Ambrosius clan is the First House of Dragonlords, the nearest their people have to a royal family, and the Pendragons have long had an alliance of peace with the Ambrosius—but people tend not to look upon relations between humans and dragons very well. It was why they were restricted to only a few stolen nights under the cover of darkness. The idea made Arthur feel somewhat ill, but Father still hoped to marry him off, make a political alliance of him, but there's few who would want their daughters anywhere near him, knowing he'd consorted with an <em>animal.</em> Merlin knew it better than most—his mother, Hunith, had been born to one of the noble houses in Essetir. She'd been disinherited and expelled from the court, a social pariah, once it'd come out that she had accepted a marriage suit from Merlin's father.</p>
<p>Merlin hums. "I always knew I liked your mother. So we have a sennight by the Queen's grace, hm?" He grins, a baring of teeth that are just this side of too sharp for human; Arthur's mouth goes dry. "Let's make the most of it, shall we?"</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Alright, enough. Enough," Arthur gasps, pushing Merlin off him before he smothers beneath his dragon's weight. "I'm still human, you overgrown lizard, now let me rest before I expire."</p>
<p>Merlin chortles as he settles himself beside Arthur, smiling. Even though he's haler than the average man, Arthur's still managed to leave marks of his own, bruises and love-bites, though they still look half-healed, not fresh. The only one that appears prominent is the deep bite on Merlin's shoulder where Arthur like to sink his teeth when he comes. "Call me a lizard again, I'll make certain you expire," he teases, scraping his nails over Arthur's flank to make him squirm involuntarily.</p>
<p>"Do <em>not."</em> Swatting the dragon's hand away, Arthur rolls over onto his side and manages to half-crawl, half-pull himself over to the other side of the nest—he wouldn't call it a 'bed,' exactly, since there is no mattress, just heaps of various pillows, cushions, blankets, and sheets. There's a pitcher of white wine, somehow chilled despite the warmth of the room, and with a bit of a stretch, he manages to pull an engraved silver goblet from a heap of treasures. "This could probably buy a horse, you know that?" he muses, turning the cup in hand to look at it. It's made of solid silver, not simply coated with silver leaf, and there's small pieces of gemstone laid into it, arranged sapphires, emeralds, and pearls creating the likeness of rolling waves alongside. "And you have it just…on the floor."</p>
<p>"On the floor of <em>my den,</em> yes," Merlin counters, leaning forward to drag his tongue up the line of Arthur's back. "It's hardly as if anyone is going to walk in, and they would not only be a fool but a suicidal one to take something of mine."</p>
<p>"Fair enough." Arthur drains the rest of his wine and sets it back down, rolling onto his back. "Can we go to the falls? I need a bath."</p>
<p>Merlin smiles, reaching down to drag one fingertip up Arthur's thigh, making him make a noise of protest, twitching away. "I prefer you filthy."</p>
<p>"Oh, God, shut up and stop that. We're going to the falls," he retorts, pushing away Merlin's hand. "Fix my clothes, would you?" When Merlin only arches his brows, Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes. "Fix my clothes, <em>please.</em> Though I shouldn't have to be so bloody polite, considering you're the one who shredded the damn things in the first place."</p>
<p>"You like it when I do that."</p>
<p>"I also like not walking around mother-naked."</p>
<p>"Fine, fine." Merlin flicks his fingers, eyes gold. "There."</p>
<p><em>"Thank you." </em>Shifting closer, Arthur moves downward slightly to rest his head back against Merlin's chest. His heart is on the other side of his body than a human's, as it always is for dragons. It makes things easier, as he always sleeps on the left. "You know, I believe this is the longest we've ever been together like this," he muses. Their past excursions have only lasted a day or two, and that mostly taken up by fervent lovemaking. Arthur isn't certain if this is a good thing or a bad thing. He's a bit fearful of how <em>easy</em> it is, how pleasant it is for him to go to sleep in the warm tangle of the nest, listening to Merlin's slow breathing, and wake up to colour-dappled sun, knowing he has nowhere to go and nothing to do except look through the array of books Merlin has or idly sort what few treasures the dragon owns. He's not certain that he'll be able to leave as easily as he had before, or that he would <em>want</em> to.</p>
<p>"I can almost hear you thinking from here." Merlin traces an idle nail over the nape of his neck, coming up to scratch behind one ear. "What concerns you so early?"</p>
<p>"Nothing," he murmurs. "Just thinking."</p>
<p>"On?"</p>
<p>Arthur rolls his head back to look up at Merlin. "How easy this is. I'm not sure if I'll want to leave," he murmurs.</p>
<p>A small, soft smile plays at the corners of Merlin's mouth. "Then don't. I never want you to." He brushes his knuckles down Arthur's nape, gentle. "Humans are so strange and particular, but you'd be welcome in our court. Mother would love to have you around, she adores you. Father…well, I think he'd like us being the thorn in Uther's foot more than anything, but he's…fond enough of you."</p>
<p>Arthur lets out a soft sigh and turns his head into Merlin's shoulder, eyes closed as he presses his face into warm skin and faint scale. A part of him would be more than happy to be taken as Merlin's mate, but…. "It isn't your family I'm concerned about," he murmurs. Even with Mother calming worst of his temper, Father has always been of the opinion that dragons should consort with dragons, and humans with humans. He has very little doubt that if they're found out, he'll suffer the same fate as Hunith.</p>
<p>"It isn't the same," Merlin says softly, guessing at the thread of thought Arthur's pursuing. "My mother was a daughter of a minor noble, one that had two other daughters and a son besides. You are your father's only son and his heir. It isn't as though he has another son simply lying about to replace you, and I'm certain that with all those ridiculous customs of yours, he shan't name either of your sisters."</p>
<p>Arthur snorts. "Trust me, I'm not entire certain he wouldn't, just to drive the point home. Although, Morgause might do a better job of it than me."</p>
<p>"Then why not do it? Cast the gauntlet, let him decide which is more important to him."</p>
<p>He closes his eyes a moment, trying to imagine what would happen if he did just that, but he finds he cannot, not fully. He isn't certain he wants to know what Father would choose. He's afraid to know, truly. Arthur turns his head and presses his lips to Merlin's chest. "Let's go to the falls," he murmurs.</p>
<p>A momentary tensing, and Arthur's half-afraid he'll push the issue, but then Merlin only exhales, ruffling the top of his hair. "Alright, love. If you'd like."</p>
<p>They don't return from the falls until nearly nightfall, both of them dripping and laughing. Arthur feels almost drunk, laughing as they end up falling over each other on the way back into the den.</p>
<p>"Don't smother me, you great ox," Merlin laughs, pushing at his shoulders.</p>
<p>"Smother <em>you?</em> You're heavier than I am, tinderbox," Arthur chortles back. He stretches out on top of Merlin's warm body, wrapping arms around his neck; a soft sigh slips out of him. "You know I have to go back tomorrow."</p>
<p>"I know."</p>
<p>He traces a fingertip along the line of Merlin's throat, feeling the warm leap of blood under his touch. "Come on. Let's go to bed." Arthur doesn't shift off Merlin after he says it, both a request and a challenge; he hums happily as Merlin pushes upwards, an arm around his back to keep him in place. His dragon lifts him up as he stands, and Arthur wraps his legs around Merlin's waist to help stay up, crossing his ankles in the small of his back.</p>
<p>As they fall back onto the nest, Arthur grabs the bottom of his tunic and pulls it up over his head before Merlin has the chance to bring his claws out. Understanding, Merlin lowers his head and starts laying kisses over Arthur's chest and belly, feather-light brushes of lips and tongue, blowing softly over the damp patches left behind to make Arthur shiver. Both hands slide over his hips to the lacings of his trousers, pulling them apart with ease of practice, then move down to tug off his boots one at a time, dropping them on the floor. The rest of his clothes follow shortly after, drawn down his legs and cast aside. Merlin's glamour has already dissipated somewhere in all that, so when he moves back over Arthur, there is only bare skin between them.</p>
<p>Before Merlin can settle atop him, Arthur grasps his shoulders and rolls them over, something he can really only do if he takes Merlin by surprise, and slides a leg over, straddling his hips, hands braced on his chest.</p>
<p>Merlin smiles, a faint upturn of lips, and settles both hands on Arthur's hips. "Raise up, love," he murmurs.</p>
<p>Arthur rises up on his knees a little and shudders happily at the sensation of Merlin's magic washing over him, like an ewer of hot water poured down his back, over his limbs. Reaching down, he grasps Merlin in one hand and sinks down onto him, toes curling and fingers digging into Merlin's shoulder. Once he's fully seated, stretched to the limit and gasping from it, Arthur has to be still a moment lest he break already, grounded by Merlin's hands running warm and rough over his thighs, his hips, his flanks. Once he's certain he shan't come apart, he braces both hands more firmly against Merlin's chest and starts moving, rolling his hips slowly.</p>
<p>"Tomorrow," he gasps out, struggling to form words past the sensation of Merlin beneath him, all that fire and power. "Tomorrow morning, we're going back to Camelot."</p>
<p>It takes Merlin a moment to answer him, eyes glazed over with pleasure. "Morning?" he echoes.</p>
<p>"Yes, because you're—" Arthur breaks off with a choked sound as Merlin pushes up into him, dragging along that molten point of pleasure within him. "You're coming with me. And we're talking to—to my parents."</p>
<p>Merlin digs his fingers into Arthur's hips, hard enough to bruise, and he sits upright, pressing them together chest-to-chest with an arm around the small of his back to keep them pressed in tight. "You're something else, love. Something else," he purrs out. "My mate. Wonderful, beautiful, marvelous—"</p>
<p>"Shh," Arthur breathes out, lips pressed to dark hair. "I need not to talk a moment."</p>
<p>A moment, many moments. He grips Merlin's shoulders and rides his dragon until they're both slick with sweat and the muscles in his thighs ache, panting and arching, finding just the right angle to roll over that one white-hot point inside him, again and again until he's crying out, shuddering through a climax so powerful he sees nothing but gold for a moment, white sparks behind his eyes. Merlin gives a soft sigh, warm breath skittering over his throat, pushing up into Arthur as he spends.</p>
<p>"Mine," Merlin murmurs into the bend of his neck after several moments, pulses lowering and breath calming. "I love you. My mate."</p>
<p>"Yours," Arthur agrees, then leans back slightly, just enough to give himself room to kiss Merlin. "Mine."</p>
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